


In the Dead of Night.

by booksaremyreality



Series: Multi-Fandom Drabbles [6]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Drabble, Hurt/Comfort, Lose Your Mind, M/M, Nightmares, Season 3b is gonna hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:52:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksaremyreality/pseuds/booksaremyreality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a nightmare. Everything is not okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Dead of Night.

**Author's Note:**

> I was gonna write stiles having a panic attack but I got to lazy and it's late and the season 3b promos are giving me so many feelings.

Stiles was in a field. It was dark. He couldn’t remember how he got here, but it didn’t seem to matter. The only light was that of the moon, bathing the field in a pale glow of white. It was cool outside but not cold, early spring perhaps. There was something in the middle of the field. Stiles couldn’t quite see, what ever it was it had its back to him. Stiles took a couple steps forward, stumbling over a loose root before breaking into a run. 

The closer he got to better he saw, there was blood coating the figure, matting their shirt and hair. He fell to his knees beside the figure and rolled them over. He almost threw up. Derek’s face was mutilated, torn up with claw marks. His stomach was slashed open, his ribs very visible. Stiles’ stomach roiled and he heaved dryly. 

“Derek.” He croaked. “Derek, wake up. Please, please.” He shook his shoulders desperately. Stiles’ hands came away covered in Derek’s blood. He moaned lowly praying that this wasn’t real, this wasn’t really happening. He cupped his hands to his face pressing his forehead to Derek’s. It was cold. 

“Derek, Derek please, I need you to wake up. Please, please. I need you okay? I need you and I love you and you need to wake up right fucking now! Derek! Derek!” Stiles was hysterical, shaking and crying, tears slicking his face. Snot ran sloppily down his face, over his lips. 

“Please.” He whispered. 

“It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, wake up Stiles. It’s just a dream. Wake up!” Someone was shouting and shaking him. Suddenly he jerked awake gasping and crying. Derek’s worried face swam into view. 

“You’re alive.” Stiles breathed, gripping Derek’s biceps so tightly his bones creaked. 

“Of course I’m alive, Stiles, are you okay?” 

“No.” Stiles whimpered. Derek pulled Stiles’ body to his, pressing his face into his warm shoulder. No longer able to contain himself Stiles began to sob, shoulders shaking. 

“Sh, it’s going to be okay.” Derek hummed, laying them both on their sides in the bed. “Talk to me, Stiles.” 

“It’s stupid, I had a nightmare. About you. You uh--” Stiles’ voice cracked. “You uh, died. Well you were dead when I got there. All clawed up and shit. God there was so much blood.” 

“I’m here, Stiles. I’m not leaving, okay?” Derek made sure that Stiles was looking him in the eyes, made sure he new he was serious. Stiles took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. 

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism welcome!


End file.
